


Balance

by AntarcticBird



Series: Collide [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1356988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt spends his winter break in Ohio. So does Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to mailroomorder for betaing this thing for me.

Kurt slips his phone back into his pocket, looking up as Puck slides back into the booth with a fresh beer.

 

“Dude, that waitress, I swear.” Puck shakes his head, smirking.

 

Kurt sighs. “Puck, leave her alone.”

 

In response, Puck rolls up his sleeve to show Kurt the number scrawled across his forearm. “Too late. She wouldn't leave _me_ alone,” Puck tells him, grinning even wider.

 

Kurt just rolls his eyes, takes a sip of his own beer. “You're unbelievable.”

 

“We should find you someone too,” Puck suggests, eyes immediately starting to scan the room for a potential hook up for Kurt. “I'm pretty sure the piano player's gay. Or that dude over there by the -”

 

“No, thanks,” Kurt interrupts firmly. “I'm fine.”

 

Puck looks at him skeptically. “When was the last time you've had anything up your ass that wasn't made of plastic?”

 

Kurt just glares at him, doing his best to stare him down and end this conversation right now.

 

Puck's eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly. “Dude, sorry. Making assumptions again. Not cool, I know. So, when was the last time you've had your dick up someone's ass?”

 

Kurt slumps back in his seat, closing his eyes for just a second. Puck is one of his best friends, but sometimes he just can't remember why he's even hanging out with him. “I'm _not_ talking about my sex life with you.”

 

Puck looks confused. “But I tell you all about mine all the time!”

 

“Yes. I know.” Kurt sighs. “In fact, please stop.”

 

Puck just shrugs, making eyes at a girl in a tight red dress who's walking by their table instead. “So, going home for Christmas?” he asks.

 

Kurt nods, grateful for the change of topic. “Yes. I booked the flight weeks ago. Are you going?”

 

Puck shakes his head. “Nah. Jewish, remember? But my brother's coming up to New York anyway, we're gonna have a little party. You would have been totally invited if you'd been here.”

 

“Well, in that case, it's really too bad I'll be out of town,” Kurt replies dryly. Puck's parties are not something he ever wants to live through again.

 

“Yeah, sorry I can't go with you,” Puck says, not catching Kurt's sarcasm. “Traveling alone totally sucks.”

 

“Oh, Blaine is on the same flight,” Kurt says, shrugging. “It's okay.”

 

“Blaine, huh?” Puck smirks at him again. “So that's why you don't want me to set you up. You hitting that?”

 

Kurt blushes, feeling anger and some irrational feeling of annoyance rise in his chest. “No, I am not _hitting that_. He's my student!”

 

“So?” Puck just looks at him like he doesn't understand. “He's the short dude who was at the club a few weeks ago, right? Because I totally saw you leave with him. You into that whole bashful schoolboy thing? Didn't know you had a thing for virgins -”

 

“That's really none of your business,” Kurt cuts him off. “Blaine and I are – friends, I guess. I mean, he's – we are – it's complicated.”

 

“Why?” Puck frowns at him. “What's complicated about being friends? Unless you are friends but secretly want to fuck him. Or you're friends and you know he secretly wants to fuck _you_. In which case -”

 

“It's not like that,” Kurt tries to explain. _Well_ , he thinks, _that's not the_ only _problem about their weird relationship_. Of course he finds Blaine very attractive, but... “It's just that I'm his teacher and he's so much younger than me.”

 

“Um.” Puck scratches his neck. “What is he, like, eighteen?” He waits for Kurt to nod before he continues, “Well, you're twenty-five. I could see the problem if you were, like, forty, but seriously, you _just_ graduated from college yourself a few years ago. It's not like he's a kid, you know? You weren't when you were his age.”

 

“No, no, of course not,” Kurt hastens to correct. “It's just that it's sort of my job to be objective and detached and I'm worried that hanging out with him outside of class is going to be – is going to mean that I can't be all of those things.”

 

Puck laughs. “Okay, where's Kurt and what have you done with him?”

 

Kurt raises an eyebrow in question, squaring his shoulders for the undeserved judgment he thinks is coming his way, feeling more than a little hurt at Puck's reaction.

 

Puck shakes his head, then reaches across to slap Kurt's shoulder in one of those manly gestures he's so fond of. “We've been in glee club together for years. I've seen you judge the shit out of your best friends without blinking. Hell, you're judging _me_ right now, I can see it, dude! I think you'll be fine.”

 

Kurt attempts a smile, downs his beer, and gets up to get a new one. Well, he thinks. Puck definitely has a point.

 

**

 

While Kurt has never exactly minded flying alone, it's definitely better with company. And Blaine is excellent company. Not that he hadn't already known that. They had bought seats next to each other as soon as they'd figured out they'd both be flying home. Traveling is so much more fun when you don't have to do it all by yourself.

 

“It's so great that you're going back too,” Blaine tells him. “I was going to go with my friend Santana, but she decided to stay in New York at the last second. I think she has a girlfriend,” he says, grinning.

 

“Well, good for her,” Kurt comments. From everything Blaine has told him about her, she could probably use someone to ground her a little.

 

“Good for her, not necessarily good for me.” Blaine shakes his head, laughing. “Every time she's in a relationship, one of two things happens: either she forgets about me for weeks at a time, or she constantly tries to set me up on dates with all of her girlfriend's gay guy friends.”

 

Kurt frowns. “Don't you want a boyfriend?”

 

Blaine bites his lip and stares down at his knees. “Maybe. Someday,” he says. “But not just anyone. And certainly not someone Santana picks out for me. I want – I have a very specific type. As far as boyfriends go.”

 

Kurt nods, because this is something he can relate to. “I'm the same way,” he admits. “I'm kind of … picky, I guess. Too picky, if you believe Puck.”

 

Blaine meets his eyes, shaking his head firmly. “No way. You just know what you want. That's a good thing. You shouldn't settle for less than you deserve.”

 

“That's sweet of you to say,” Kurt replies, trying very hard not to blush. Blaine just has a way of saying these things that leaves him kind of flustered, occasionally.

 

“Anyway, should we be talking about this at all?” Blaine grins at him. “No mentioning of dating and relationships, remember?”

 

Kurt laughs. “You have a point. I'm sorry. Please, feel free to change the topic!”

 

Blaine shrugs. “So, anything interesting planned for Christmas vacation?”

 

Kurt shakes his head, smiles in anticipation of the quiet week ahead of him. “No. Just watching TV with my dad, maybe catching up with a few old friends from school. Mostly just a whole lot of nothing.”

 

“That sounds fantastic,” Blaine replies.

 

Kurt nods, feeling his shoulders relax at just the thought of sleeping in, sitting down at an already set breakfast table, Carole's pancakes, _god_ , he's missed them - “What about you?” he asks.

 

“Oh, mostly just a whole lot of nothing, too,” Blaine says. “Cooper's flying in on the morning of the 25th, so until then I guess I'll just have some quiet time with my parents. Which they will use to interrogate me on all things New York and college. Oh, and the Warblers are having their annual Christmas alumni concert, so I'll be doing that, too. But other than that, I'm just going to sleep and watch TV.” He grins. “I've been looking forward to it for weeks.”

 

Kurt laughs. “I believe you. I remember how good it felt going to bed knowing there wouldn't be dance class the next day, _such_ a relief -”

 

“Hey, um.” Blaine's gaze flickers over his face before he stares at his hands, a bashful little grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. “The Warbler's concert is on the evening of the 26th, if you'd want to – I mean, I know you probably want to spend time with your family, but if you wanted, you could. Um. Come.”

 

Kurt nudges Blaine's knee with his. “Hey.”

 

Blaine looks up, just a hint of nervousness behind the smile on his face.

 

Kurt smiles back, open, honest. “I'd love to. I can't promise anything, but email me the details and I'll let you know. Okay?”

 

Blaine's eyes crinkle at the corners when he's truly happy. “Okay. And I won't be offended if you don't, I just – the Warblers mean a lot to me and I ...” He trails off, shrugs.

 

“I'd like to see where my best student learned it all,” Kurt says. “If there's any way I can make it, I'll be there.”

 

Blaine beams at him.

 

**

 

At the airport, Blaine spots his parents right away; both of them there to pick him up, and from the wide, happy smile on Blaine's face Kurt guesses that his home life must be sort of awesome. He feels weird, suddenly, knowing Blaine as well as he does and yet not knowing _this_ about him – what his family's like, how he gets along with them, what it was like for him, growing up in a small town in Ohio as a gay kid. There's no time to ask him all these things now, and maybe it's too much anyway, they've crossed so many boundaries already. They don't need to know everything about each other, not when sometimes it feels like too much already.

 

“Thanks for the company,” Blaine says, turning to Kurt. “Í guess I better go now. Your dad here yet?”

 

“I don't see him,” Kurt replies. “But he'll be here any minute.”

 

“Okay.” Blaine hesitates. “I can keep you company while you wait, my parents won't mind -”

 

_Of course they wouldn't_ , Kurt thinks, _being the people who most likely taught Blaine his excellent manners_. “That's okay,” he assures him. “Go be with your family. And remember to email me about that Warblers show!”

 

“I will, thanks, Kurt.” Blaine lets go of his suitcase, moves in towards Kurt for what is probably supposed to be a hug, but stops himself at the last second. He offers a hand instead. “So I – guess I'll see you.”

 

Kurt takes the hand offered to him, not shaking it, just – holding. Blaine's palm is warm against his, his fingers strong and sure against the back of Kurt's hand. This feels oddly formal. “Yeah. See you. Have a good Christmas!”

 

“You too.” Blaine hesitates for just another second, then lets go of Kurt's hand, grabs for the handle of his suitcase and walks away with a last smile thrown back at Kurt over his shoulder.

 

Kurt watches him go, for just a moment, before he picks up his own luggage again and threads his way through the crowd of people towards the exit. He sees Blaine at the edge of his vision, jumping up and down, waving like a madman, sees the tiny, curly-haired woman who must be his mother throw her arms around him with a squeal, the stocky man with the floppy gray hair hugging the both of them from the side with so much force behind it it makes them turn in a slow circle while they hug, balancing each other so they don't fall over. A typical family reunion.

 

Kurt smiles, eyes scanning the crowd for his own father until he sees him right by the exit, hands in his pockets, but opening his arms for a hug as soon as he spots Kurt several feet away.

 

It's good to be home.

 

**

 

“I'm glad you could make it home for Christmas, kid,” his dad says as they drive through the familiar streets, snow falling heavily and the sun slowly going down.

 

“I've made it every single year since I moved out,” Kurt replies, turning his head to look over at his dad. “I haven't missed a single Christmas with you guys. You know how important it is to me to -”

 

“I know,” his dad answers, nodding, smiling over at him briefly. “Just saying. One day, you'll have a family of your own and it's all going to be a lot more complicated to sort out – you might wanna stay in New York and we'll fly out to stay with you and your kids instead.”

 

For a second, Mason's face flashes before Kurt's eyes – his best chance at a family of his own so far and he'd screwed it up – and laughs humorlessly. “I think that's gonna be a while yet, dad.”

 

“No rush,” his dad laughs. “I like having you home for Christmas.”

 

Kurt looks out the passenger side window, watching the small streets and small houses with the people leading their small lives and sighs. “I like coming home for Christmas.” It's not even a lie. Sometimes it does feel good to let go of everything for just a week and be a kid again. Even at twenty-five, that hasn't changed. Sometimes, the small life feels awfully tempting to him these days, more and more as the years go by.

 

He loves New York. He loves his job, even if he thinks of it as temporary – teaching is fun, but he knows he'll be back on the stage sooner or later. That's non-negotiable.

 

He has friends, he has a nice apartment, he can wear what he wants and date who he wants and doesn't have to be afraid every single day of his life. Not that all New Yorkers are open-minded and judgment-free, but it is _so_ much better there than it ever was in Lima.

 

What he doesn't have is the job he really wants (not yet), and he doesn't have someone to come home to at the end of the day (not anymore).

 

“You okay, kid?” his dad asks, and Kurt twists his mouth into a smile. He can save the brooding thoughts for later.

 

“I'm fine. Just – tired.”

 

“You sure?”

 

His smile turns genuine at the worry in his dad's voice. Sometimes, it feels so nice to be cared for. “Yeah, dad. I'm sure.”

 

**

 

Mercedes insists on meeting up immediately the day after Kurt arrives and he doesn't resist. It's been way too long since they've seen each other in person. He hugs her for a long time and she squeezes back, laughing in his ear.

 

“Missed you,” she says. “Did you get even skinnier since last time?”

 

He grins into her hair. “I've missed you too, honey. You promised to visit me in New York years ago!”

 

“And you promised to come down to L.A.,” she reminds him, pulling back. “Come on. Let's get coffee and then you can explain to me why you haven't gotten your cute little ass on that plane to California yet. And being scared of the sun is not a valid excuse, sweetheart, you are not actually a vampire, you know?”

 

He laughs and offers her his arm as they walk into the coffee shop and up to the counter. Not much has changed about the Lima Bean since the last time he's been here. But then, nothing much ever really changes in this weird little town.

 

They settle into a booth near the window, on opposite sides of the table so that they're able to see each other.

 

“So, tell me about yourself,” Kurt starts. “How's – life?”

 

She shrugs, the corners of her mouth twitching a little, and he just knows she wants to tell him something good. “It's okay.”

 

He leans forward, squinting his eyes at her across the table. “I know you're holding back from me. Come on. Spill.”

 

She grins widely. “I'm seeing someone.”

 

He nods, excited for her. “Who is he?”

 

“His name is Danny. He's … sort of perfect.”

 

Kurt smiles at her, reaching across the table to her hand. “I'm so happy for you.”

 

She laughs. “I'm happy for me too. I think – you know. I really like him.”

 

“I have to meet him,” Kurt decides. “When can I meet him?”

 

She squeezes his hand before letting go. “As soon as you come visit me. Which you should do. As soon as you can.”

 

“I will,” he promises. “I swear, as soon as I'm back in New York I'll look up plane tickets.”

 

“Good,” she says. “And I'll see about coming to New York. I don't like going so long without seeing you.”

 

“I don't like that either,” Kurt admits. He has drifted apart with most of his other high school friends (except, obviously, Puck, who is as faithful as a puppy and as exhausting as an entire preschool class), but Mercedes is still his best friend, even if they only see each other once, maybe twice a year.

 

“So what about you?” she asks. “Are you – seeing anyone?”

 

She knows about Mason. Of course she does, he'd spent entire nights on the phone with her after it was over, crying as his heart broke over and over with every memory he spilled out to her over the phone. And she knows him, maybe better than anyone except for his dad. She knows he doesn't recover easily from heartbreak. So now, sitting across from her and being asked directly, he actually has to take a second to think about his answer. It's been almost a year since his break up. And – he's fine. A little bitter, but – for the first time in a long time, he's processing things. He's getting there. He's putting himself out there again. “I'm fine” he says.

 

Her eyes widen. “You are seeing someone, oh my god! Who is he?”

 

“I'm not seeing anyone,” he insists. “I've – I've been seeing … people. You know. Randomly. I'm just – I'm fine. That's all.”

 

She tilts her head at him. “Then why do you have that look on your face?”

 

“What look?”

 

She shakes her head. “There's something you're not telling. Oh my god. Are you sleeping with someone famous? A Broadway actor? Or someone from the faculty at NYADA? Are you allowed to have relationships with coworkers? Is he cute?”

 

Kurt blushes furiously, cursing his fair skin. “It's not … like that,” he says. “I've – okay.” He releases his breath and rubs a hand across his face, barely suppressing a smile as the face of the only guy he's had sex with more than once since his break up flashes before his eyes. “There was … this guy.”

 

“I knew it,” she squeals.

 

Kurt sighs. “No, it was … totally casual. I mean, it was just a one time thing, sort of. We're – we're friends.”

 

“But you like him?” she asks.

 

He shakes his head. “I don't know. I – just don't know. And it doesn't matter. Because – it's not going to go anywhere. Like, we're not even supposed to – I can't be with him,” he says. “We just – had fun together, and you know my stupid little heart, it always gets attached to the wrong people.” He laughs. “But yeah, no. Not seeing anyone.”

 

She's quiet for a minute. “He's not married, is he?” she finally asks. “You're not fucking a married guy.”

 

“What? No!” Kurt shakes his head emphatically. “You know I wouldn't!”

 

“Yeah, I know,” she says. “Just making sure. But then, why can't it work? Is he, like, not out?”

 

Kurt sighs. What is he supposed to tell her? That he's fucked a guy who's only just graduated high school, an eighteen-year old college freshman, a guy seven years younger than himself who's just moved to the big city to pursue his dreams and who's so sweet and earnest and enthusiastic and _young_ -

 

“It just can't, okay?” he says. “He's – we don't want the same things.” He figures it's close enough to the truth for now. Kurt wants a boyfriend, he wants lazy mornings in bed and cuddling in front of the TV and planned holidays once a year and a shared hamper for their dirty underwear. He wants someone to hold his hand before an audition and someone to get free tickets for to his first real Broadway show as not just an understudy. He wants to have sex with the same person every night. He wants something steady and forever.

 

But Kurt also remembers how college works. And Blaine only just got there. He's so young. He only just found the freedom of a different guy every night, of not being tied down by anything, of living his life as the reckless eighteen-year old boy that he is. So yeah. They probably don't want the same things.

 

“Aw, I'm sorry,” Mercedes says, and reaches out to take his hand now. “Maybe I need to plan a trip to New York real soon and then we can go out and find you someone who'll love you the way you deserve. I don't trust Puck to do actually be a lot of help with that, even if he means well.”

 

Kurt grins. “God I missed you.”

 

“I need another coffee,” she says, getting up from her seat. “You want anything? It's on me.”

 

Kurt sighs. “I could really use a cookie right now.”

 

“Coming right up,” she promises, then stops next to his seat to lean down and place a quick in his hair. “Love you.”

 

“Love you too,” he says, smiling up at her. “Now go get me my cookie! I was promised a cookie!”

 

**

 

It's Christmas Eve, and he and his dad and Carole and Finn just sit for hours and talk and eat and then watch Christmas movies until they're too tired to stay awake.

 

Eventually, Kurt makes his way up to his old room that is still pretty much unchanged even though he hasn't lived in it for seven years, and sits on his bed, trying to decide whether he wants to shower tonight or wait until the morning. These are the big decisions he deals with during his winter vacation – he kind of loves it.

 

Absentmindedly, he picks up his phone from his night stand, checking for messages.

 

There's only one. From Blaine.

 

It just says: _The Warblers are very impressed with my improvement and I told them you were responsible. Now they all want to meet you._

 

Kurt stares at the text for a long time, smiling to himself. Then he changes into his pajamas and decides he can shower tomorrow. He really is tired now.

 

**

 

He thinks about asking his dad to come with him to Blaine's concert and then discards the idea because having Blaine meet his dad seems – weird. Teacher's don't introduce students to their parents.

 

He thinks about asking Mercedes to come with him to Blaine's concert and then discards that idea too because he doesn't want to admit to her or anyone that he's a little nervous about going, that he feels like he needs someone with him. Which is the point at which it becomes apparent to him that he's been thinking about all of this way too much, has read into it way too much. He 's let himself dream too much and now he's harboring an actual honest-to-god crush on a student. And it's really inappropriate.

 

No, he decides, he doesn't need anyone to come with him. Because it's not a big deal. His best student is performing with his old a capella group and he's in the area, so of course he's going to swing by to see him and be proud of all the progress he's made. Of all the things he's taught him.

 

He can absolutely do this on his own. No help necessary. And then he and Blaine will see each other and talk and both go their own ways and not see each other until they're both back in New York.

 

He smiles, answers Blaine's latest text about the cute puppy he just saw during his morning run, then lets his head fall onto his arms on the kitchen table as he realizes what he's doing.

 

They can be friendly. Maybe even friends. But he's texted Blaine more than he's texted Puck or Mercedes during the course of this break. And he needs to stop doing that.

 

**

 

He doesn't see Blaine before the concert, thinks about shooting him a quick text to let him know he's in the audience but then decides against it. He's already told him he'd be there. Everything more than that seems way too personal.

 

The Dalton auditorium is beautiful, just like the rest of the school – all dark wood and stone and definitely not like the run-down auditorium at Kurt's old high school.

 

Despite the fact that he had at one point almost ten years ago considered transferring here, he's never before been inside the school. He takes his seat in a back corner and smooths the fabric of his pants over his thighs and tries his best to be cool. He's pretty sure most people in the audience tonight are parents or partners of the Warbler alumni, or former Dalton students themselves. He's pretty sure none of the other performers invited their professors to hear them sing. He's pretty sure no other professor would have accepted the invitation. He's not really sure what he's doing.

 

The concert is fantastic. Despite the fact that those boys couldn't have had more than a few days to rehearse together, they seem to just work together – it is really good music and Blaine even has a solo to some Maroon 5 song that Kurt vaguely remembers from a few years ago.

 

He thinks about just leaving, afterwards. Just taking the coward's way out, sneaking out and texting Blaine from home, letting him know he enjoyed it. If he stays he'll have to talk to Blaine and then people would see him talking to Blaine, and it might raise some questions he's not sure he himself even knows the answers to anymore. But he hesitates a few minutes too long, standing in the foyer and trying to make up his mind, and suddenly there's Blaine, rushing toward him through the sea of people, smiling brightly and calling out his name.

 

“Kurt,” he calls, waving wildly, “You're here, you made it, this is awesome -” And with a few more steps he's right there, pulling Kurt into a quick but very enthusiastic hug, squeezing him tight for a second before letting go, bouncing on the heels of his feet. He looks like an excited puppy and Kurt can't help the blush at the spontaneous hug, or the way his face just breaks into an answering smile.

 

“Blaine.” His voice comes out a lot breathier than he'd planned, and he clears his throat before attempting language again, a bit frustrated with himself that he can't get this stupid schoolboy crush under control. Or this stupid crush on someone who's barely older than a schoolboy, to be exact. “Hi. You were great, thank you for inviting me. I really enjoyed this.”

 

“I'm glad, thank you so much,” Blaine says, then waves at someone behind Kurt. “I want you to meet my friends!”

 

Kurt pales. “Blaine, no, that's really not necessary -”

 

“Hey, guys, told you he'd be here,” Blaine says, fist bumping one guy while accepting a pat on the shoulder from another one. “Kurt, this is Wes and David. We were in the Warblers together. Well, they graduated a year before me, but – oh, hey, Trent,” he calls out out, waving over yet someone else. “Guys, this is Kurt, best teacher in New York and future Broadway legend.”

 

Kurt lets out a laugh that's more nervous than anything else. “I don't think -”

 

“Oh, we've heard so much about you,” the guy Blaine had introduced as Wes tells him, grabbing his hand and shaking it firmly. “And while Blaine has always been exceptionally talented and hard-working, I can't believe what you got out of him in just a few short months, you are indeed a genius, sir.”

 

“Call me Kurt,” Kurt mumbles, wishing he were anywhere but here. He hadn't known he was going to meet Blaine's friends. This is starting to cross so many lines and it's making him really uncomfortable.

 

**

 

Kurt eventually manages to get away from Blaine and his friends, feeling overwhelmed and not quite sure what just happened. The more he thinks about needing to get out of this before it gets too complicated, the more involved he seems to become in Blaine's life. He knows being friendly with a student is okay. A lot of his colleagues have lunch with the students or discuss assignments and stuff over coffee.

 

But texting, hanging out, meeting each others friends? Kurt sighs, shaking his head at himself as he makes his way across the parking lot through the cold December air. Because, well, if he's being honest, does it matter how many more lines they cross? They've already fucked, more than once. It doesn't get much more inappropriate than that.

 

“Kurt, wait,” he hears behind him, and just stops in his tracks despite his better judgment, turning around slowly.

 

“Blaine.”

 

Blaine walks up to him quickly, bundled up in a thick coat that he's holding closed in front of his chest, not even having taken the time to button it before rushing after Kurt. “Hey, I just wanted to -”

 

“Your friends are very nice, I just thought -”

 

“Yeah, sorry if that was weird,” Blaine says, shrugging uncomfortably. “I could sort of tell the minute I waved them over that it made you nervous. I didn't – I'm very sorry about that.”

 

“It's okay,” Kurt assures him. “I liked them. They're nice. I just -” he deflates a little, shrugging helplessly. “Blaine, what are we doing?”

 

Blaine frowns at him. “I'm not sure I know what you mean.”

 

Kurt waves a hand between them. “Me coming to your concert. You introducing me to your friends. We've texted almost nonstop all break. Blaine, this is – we can't do this.”

 

Blaine swallows, looking hurt. “We can't be friends? Because I thought we agreed that we could. I like you, Kurt.”

 

Kurt nods. “I know. I know we agreed. But isn't this weird? You have to admit that it's a little weird.”

 

“No,” Blaine insists. “But it is a little weird that we keep having this same conversation over and over again. Look, if I crossed a line here, I apologize. But please -” his voice breaks a little and stands up straighter, looking Kurt firmly in the eyes. “We're not doing anything wrong. We're adults, Kurt. And this was just music. This is okay.”

 

Kurt lowers his head, not sure what to say. “I just -”

 

“Have coffee with me?” Blaine asks.

 

Kurt looks up at him, amused. “How is that going to make it less weird?”

 

Blaine grins. “I don't know, but it's worth a try, isn't it? I can't let you go home like this.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Blaine shrugs. “Because honestly, I'm scared you won't ever text me back again. And I like your texts. You're kind of funny, Kurt. And I really do want to keep hanging out with you and talking to you. Can we please just do that?”

 

Kurt hesitates for just a second, then lets his shoulders slump in defeat. “Fine. Coffee. Let's have coffee.”

 

“Okay.” Blaine gives him a relieved smile. “I know just the place. Follow me in your car?”

 

“Okay,” Kurt agrees.

 

**

 

It's a small coffee shop about ten minutes from the school, probably the one Blaine used to frequent with his friends (and boyfriends?) when he was still a student at Dalton, Kurt thinks.

 

They buy their coffees at the counter, then find a place to sit. There's almost no one here, and Kurt doesn't really know if he's glad about that. Because this means they'll actually have a chance to talk. And he's just not sure what he's going to be saying if Blaine lets him.

 

“So, does the fact that you're here now mean you're not mad at me anymore?” Blaine asks, giving Kurt a hopeful look across the table.

 

Kurt sighs. “I was never mad at you,” he admits. “I'm sorry I freaked out just now. I keep doing that and I'm – sorry.”

 

Blaine shrugs. “It's okay. I could have warned you about my friends. I never meant to -”

 

“No, it's fine,” Kurt assures him. “They were nice. And you were great. All of you. I am really glad you invited me.”

 

“I'm really glad you were there,” Blaine assures him. “My parents really wanted to say hello too, but they had to leave in a hurry afterwards to make it to my aunt's Christmas party.”

 

“You're not going with them?” Kurt asks.

 

Blaine shakes his head. “I'm going to meet them there later. The Warblers usually go and hang out after those Christmas concerts so my aunt knows I won't be there until later tonight.”

 

“Oh my god, Blaine, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to keep you from your friends, you could have gone with them if you wanted -”

 

“I am with a friend right now, though, right?” Blaine asks, tilting his head at Kurt. “At least I'd like to think so.”

 

Kurt exhales. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, you are. We are. But Blaine -”

 

“I want to be here,” Blaine assures him. “It's not like I won't see them again before I go back to New York, we're having a party this weekend. So don't feel guilty about this too, okay? I _wanted_ to hang out with you.”

 

Kurt can't help the smile and blush stealing over his face. “Okay.”

 

“So, which of the songs was your favorite?” Blaine asks, leaning back in his chair. “And just so you know, you're only allowed to say that it was my solo. If it wasn't that one, you have to lie.”

 

Kurt laughs. “Well, it just so happens that it _was_ your solo, so I guess that's lucky for me.”

 

“Really?” Blaine looks proud, and a little touched. “Aw, Kurt, thank you!”

 

“You're good, Blaine,” he says. “You have an incredible gift.” He grins. “Also, you're learning from the best.”

 

“Well, that's true.” Blaine laughs. “But really, it was so good to perform with a group again. I think I need to join more groups at NYADA.”

 

“Aren't you already part of at least twenty groups?” Kurt asks. “I don't know how you do it, honestly.”

 

Blaine lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I have good time management skills? And also, it's fun. NYADA has so much to offer.”

 

“That's true,” Kurt agrees. “Sometimes I miss being a student there.”

 

“You never told me what groups you were in,” Blaine says. “Come on, inspire me!”

 

Kurt shakes his head. “I was never really in very many groups. I had to work, and I interned at Vogue, and I had a band -”

 

“Wait, a band, really?” Blaine's eyes widen in fascination. “Why did I not know this? Were you any good?”

 

Kurt smiles. “We were pretty good, yes.”

 

“Okay, please tell me that there are YouTube videos?” Blaine wants to know. “I need to see this.”

 

Kurt takes a sip of his coffee. “I don't think -”

 

“If you don't want to tell me, I'll ask Rachel, she knows your biography better than you do, I think.”

 

Kurt sighs. “You may be right about that.”

 

“So?”

 

Kurt reaches out a hand, wiggling his fingers. “Give me your phone. I'll find the less embarrassing videos, if you must see them.”

 

“Yay,” Blaine exclaims, handing his phone over to Kurt.

 

**

 

They stay in the café all afternoon, until Blaine absolutely has to leave to go to his family Christmas party. They walk out to the parking lot together where their cars are right next to each other, stopping for a moment to say goodbye. Blaine bounces a little on the heels of his feet, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat.

 

“Thanks for hanging out with me today,” he says. “And thanks again for coming to the concert. It – really meant a lot to me.”

 

Kurt shakes his head. “Thank you for wanting me there. And – I'm really glad we got to hang out a bit. This was fun.”

 

Blaine grins. “You really are my favorite teacher, you know that?”

 

Kurt feels himself blush. “I did not know that. No.”

 

Blaine shrugs. “Well, it's true. You're amazing.”

 

“Oh, shut up.” Kurt laughs, a little embarrassed.

 

“I mean it,” Blaine promises. “That's why I signed up for your class next semester too.”

 

“You did?” Kurt can't deny that he's pleased – it's nice being appreciated. Even if having Blaine in his class doesn't do much to make his life any easier. It's still nice.

 

“Of course I did,” Blaine says, then sighs. “And I really should get going. So … I'll talk to you later?”

 

Kurt nods. “Yeah. Yes. Talk to you later.”

 

He raises his hand in a small wave at the same time Blaine opens his arms and leans in for a hug, both of them stopping mid-motion, blushing.

 

“Well,” Blaine says, extending a hand for Kurt to shake at the same moment Kurt moves in for a hug. They stop again, laughing.

 

“This is awkward.” Kurt grins, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“Just – come here,” Blaine says, and before Kurt can stop him, Blaine's arms are around his waist, squeezing him in a brief hug. He hugs back quickly before pulling away.

 

“See you.”

 

“Yeah. I'll probably be texting everyone I know from my aunt's party, it will be so boring … So you'll definitely hear from me soon.”

 

“Drive safe,” Kurt says, and waits until Blaine is in his car and driving away before getting into his own.

 

Oddly, he feels a lot less confused about his feelings after this afternoon. It's still complicated. But it's like, every time Blaine is actually around, it just all starts making sense all of a sudden.

 

**

 

Kurt just hangs around the house the next day, not sure what to do with the rest of his vacation – his dad is back at work and everyone else seems to have plans. Mercedes has canceled their plans for the day and no one else is around.

 

He watches some mindless television, plays a few levels of Candy Crush on his phone, and thinks about just going back to sleep when he gets a text. It's from Blaine.

 

_Your town really is in the middle of nowhere!_

 

Kurt frowns, texting back: _You are in Lima?_

 

It only takes a minute before he has a response. _I was supposed to be meeting a friend, but she ditched me at the last second and now I'm sitting here trying to figure out what to do._

 

He has sent the text before he can stop himself. _Come over for coffee?_

 

This time, it takes a moment before Blaine replies. _Wait, seriously? Like, to your house? Where your family lives?_

 

Kurt takes a deep breath. No going back now. He offered. _Yes, if you want._

 

_I want_ , Blaine texts back.

 

So Kurt tells him the address, and then just sits, eyes wide, clutching his phone tightly in his hands. Blaine is going to come to his house. Okay then. No big deal. He just invited the student he fucked into his dad's house. Nope, no big deal at all. This is all _completely_ professional.

 

**

 

“So, the friend you were supposed to be meeting in Lima?” Kurt asks, focusing on filling the coffee maker while Blaine leans against the counter on the other end of the kitchen.

 

“Rachel.” he laughs. “Apparently she forgot to tell me that she has a 'family thing' today. I think it's probably about a guy, though.”

 

Kurt shoots him a quick smile before counting out spoonfuls of ground coffee into the filter. “I'm sorry you drove all the way out here for nothing.”

 

“I wouldn't say it was for nothing,” Blaine replies.

 

“Well, no, because now you get the pleasure of my company,” Kurt replies, getting two mugs for them from the cupboard. “Do you take sugar? Milk?”

 

“No, thanks.” Blaine shakes his head. “And, yeah, exactly. Now I know where Kurt Hummel grew up. Once you're famous, people will pay me to talk about this.”

 

“Dork.” Kurt laughs at him. “But seriously, with the leaps you've been making this semester alone, I'll only ever be your understudy. I might have to stop teaching you, you'll end up being better than me. And we can't have that.”

 

“Shut up, you're amazing,” Blaine says. “Also, oh my god, I just thought – Rachel is gonna be so pissed when she finds out what I ended up doing after she ditched me. This is great!”

 

Kurt frowns. “Do you have to tell her?”

 

Blaine sighs, shrugging. “No, you're right. It's probably better to just not mention it. But – it's okay that I'm here, isn't it? Like, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable -”

 

“It's fine, Blaine,” Kurt assures him. “I invited you, after all.”

 

“Yes, you did.” Blaine sounds pleased. “I like being your favorite student. This is great!”

 

“Hey!” Kurt fills their mugs, hands one off to Blaine, starts adding milk and sugar to his. “I never said you were my favorite student!”

 

Blaine pouts. “I'm not your favorite? I sat by your bedside when you were sick. I made you soup! This is really unfair!”

 

“I knew you were doing that for a reason,” Kurt replies, turning around to lean against the counter with his hip, facing Blaine and grinning at him over the rim of his mug. “I knew that wasn't just a selfless act because you actually cared about my well-being.”

 

“I care about my education,” Blaine informs him. “And my favorite teacher being sick isn't really helpful.”

 

“Oh, so I'm still your favorite?” Kurt asks, smirking. “That's good to know. Feel free to keep reminding me. I could always use some more soup.”

 

Blaine sighs, about to respond, when the front door slams closed.

 

“Kurt?” a voice calls out.

 

Kurt jumps, a flash of guilt shooting through him as if he's doing something he's not supposed to. The blood rushes to his face as he remembers that he's actually very close to doing something he's not supposed to. And enjoying it. “In here, dad,” he calls.

 

“I'm back early, not much to do right after Christmas, so I let Kyle handle it and thought I could spend some time with – Oh.” He stops in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes landing on Blaine. “Didn't know you had a friend over.”

 

“Dad, this is Blaine,” Kurt manages, trying to calm his racing heart. This is – weird.

 

Blaine extends a hand, polite as always, smiling brightly. “Mr Hummel. Nice to meet you!”

 

“Hi,” Burt says, shaking Blaine's hand, then scratching his head. “I'm um. I can just go and take care of some paperwork -”

 

“Oh, no, I was just about to -” Blaine starts.

 

“We're having coffee,” Kurt interrupts. “Do you want a cup?”

 

Burt shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sounds good.”

 

Kurt doesn't really know why – apart from Mason, he has never brought a boy home before. And Blaine isn't even – Blaine is definitely not a boyfriend, he's – well, whatever he is to Kurt. Kurt suddenly thinks having his dad there as a buffer between them might actually the best thing that could have possibly happened this afternoon.

 

**

 

He walks Blaine to his car at the end of the afternoon, hugs him goodbye in the driveway.

 

“Thanks for the coffee,” Blaine says. “And your dad is kind of awesome.”

 

“Yes, he is,” Kurt confirms. “And you're welcome.”

 

“So, I'll see you in New York?” Blaine stands too close, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.

 

“Definitely.” Kurt takes a step back, holding his breath for a second and pressing his lips together, trying to shake off the thought of hugging Blaine again. He's just – so very easy to hug, warm and eager and effortlessly affectionate. “I'll see you in class.”

 

“In class. Right.” Blaine nods, his smile overly bright.

 

Kurt waits until he's in the car, pulling out of the driveway, before he walks back into the house.

 

His dad is sitting on the couch in front of the TV, not even looking up when Kurt drops onto the cushion next to him, even though it's clear he's waiting for him to say something first. Eventually Burt is the first to break the silence when Kurt stubbornly refuses to say anything.

 

“He's a nice kid.”

 

Kurt nods. “Yeah, he's – he is.”

 

“He seemed to like you.”

 

“He's my student. I teach him. He can't be openly hostile toward me,” Kurt jokes.

 

Burt ignores his comment. “You seemed to like him too.”

 

Kurt sighs. “Dad -”

 

“Look.” Burt turns to him, his face serious. “You're a smart guy, Kurt. And you always knew what you wanted. Just – be careful. Okay?”

 

Kurt lowers his eyes, stares at his knees. “I don't know what I'm doing,” he admits.

 

Burt claps a hand onto his shoulder. “I know, buddy. I know. But you'll figure it out.”

 

“I hope so.” Kurt laughs, then slumps sideways, resting his head on his father's shoulder. “I really do hope so.”

 

**

 

Kurt gets back to New York on a Wednesday. Classes won't start again until the following Monday. He'd spent New Year's Eve with Mercedes, on the couch in her parents' living room, watching TV and drinking wine and just hanging out. It had been fun.

 

Now he's back in his apartment, thinking about calling Puck or one of his other friends or just reading one of the books he keeps buying but never has the time to look at, or maybe taking a day trip somewhere – He's bored. Bored and restless and feeling nervous about something he can't quite pinpoint. More than once he finds himself sitting with his phone in his hand, screen unlocked, fingers hovering uncertainly as if he's about to text someone. He doesn't even know if he wants to talk to anyone.

 

It's Thursday afternoon when he gets a text from Blaine. _It's so boring on campus when there are no classes. Not even my roommate is back yet._

 

Kurt smiles, texts back before he can think too much about it. _Shouldn't you be doing irresponsible things with your free time? Why are you texting your teacher?_

 

_Because I actually like learning_ , Blaine responds. _And should you be encouraging me to be irresponsible? Teach me something!_

 

The smile on Kurt's face stretches into a grin and he shakes his head before he responds. _I'm on vacation. The only thing I'm interested in teaching right now is how to properly make fun of reality TV._

 

Blaine doesn't respond right away, so eventually Kurt gets up from his spot on the couch he's felt pretty much glued to the past few days and walks into the kitchen, randomly opening cupboards for no particular reason. Turns out though that he has all the ingredients for mocha cupcakes. And he's still bored and also hungry by now. So he just starts baking.

 

It's an hour later and he's busy making espresso frosting when there's a knock on the front door.

 

He frowns, wiping his hands off on a dishrag to go and see who's there. He's definitely not expecting anyone.

 

**

 

It's Blaine. He's standing there, hands in his pockets, glancing up at Kurt with a nervous grin on his face when he opens the door.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Blaine,” Kurt says. “What are you doing here?”

 

Blaine shrugs. “I – don't know. Actually. My roommate isn't back yet and Steve isn't back yet and I was bored. And then you sounded bored too and – I kind of do want to learn how to properly make fun of reality TV.” He laughs. “Is this weird? This is probably weird, right? Should I have called?”

 

Kurt sighs. “Yeah, maybe you should have.” Blaine's face falls and he hastens to add, “It's just that – not that I'm not happy to see you. I'm sorry. I'm bad at this. Do you want to come in?”

 

“Are you sure?” Blaine hesitates. “I could just go -”

 

“You came all the way out here,” Kurt says. “And I made cupcakes. You can help me with the frosting.”

 

“That – sounds good, actually,” Blaine says. “Thanks.”

 

Kurt steps aside to let Blaine into the apartment, closing the door behind them.

 

Seems like he'll have company this afternoon after all. He can't deny the fact that he's happy to see him. And maybe the reasons for that don't even really matter. They're going to eat cupcakes and watch TV. Kurt has done that with all of his friends at some point.

 

**

 

They stand in the kitchen, Kurt licking frosting off of his fingers and Blaine cradling his second cup of coffee in his hands. It's getting dark outside which makes the apartment seem even more cozy – soft light and the smell of coffee and cupcakes, the gentle sounds of Kurt's baking playlist in the background, Blaine's laughter whenever Kurt says something he finds especially funny.

 

“So, your favorite character on Buffy was Giles?” he asks. “Not, like, Buffy? Or Willow? Or Spike?”

 

Blaine shakes his head. “No, I like Giles. He's – classy. And, come on, Anthony Stewart Head is handsome.”

 

Kurt shrugs. “Yeah. I'll give you that. Still. I would never have guessed. _Giles_. Huh.”

 

“So, who's your favorite, then?” Blaine wants to know, taking another sip of coffee. “Oh, let me guess – Angel?”

 

“Ugh, no!” Kurt shakes his head vehemently, swiping a finger through the leftover frosting in the bowl and sucking it off his index finger. “Too dark and broody.”

 

“Cordelia?”

 

“She's funny. I do like her. But no. Not even close.”

 

Blaine lifts a hand in defeat. “Okay, I give up. Just tell me.”

 

Kurt smirks at him triumphantly. “Oz.”

 

Blaine gasps. “Seriously? Okay, no, I would never have thought of him.”

 

Kurt shrugs. “He's funny and loyal and smart. Also, he's cute. And -” He feels himself blush, lowers his head, biting his lip.

 

“What?” Blaine asks, then his eyes widen with realization. “You have a thing for werewolves!”

 

Kurt lets out a little embarrassed laugh, hiding his face behind his hands. “Don't tell anyone. I'll deny it.”

 

“So, you _really_ have a thing for werewolves, then.” Blaine laughs. “Oh my god. This is awesome.”

 

Kurt spreads his fingers in front of his eyes to glare at Blaine through the spaces in between. “Shut up! He's hot, okay? I don't expect you to understand, Mr I Like Old British Librarians.”

 

“Hey!” Blaine sets down his coffee mug, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “That's just not true. You know I also like hot young NYADA teachers.”

 

Kurt drops his hands, freezes. “Blaine -”

 

“Okay, no. Shit.” Blaine sighs, slumping back against the counter. “I'm sorry. I just – can't help it, sometimes. When I'm around you.”

 

Kurt just opens and closes his mouth, not sure what to say to that. There's a reason he was so hesitant to ever strike up a friendship with Blaine. And this is exactly it. “We can't – You know we can't. We agreed, Blaine. We're friends.”

 

“Friends,” Blaine repeats dully. “Is that _really_ all we are? Are you actually fine with us just being friends?”

 

Kurt turns around, looking at him pleadingly. “Please -”

 

Blaine holds up a hand, stopping him. “No, tell me. Honestly. If that's actually all you want, I swear I'll back off. I promise I will. I'll never mention it again. But I think you and I both know that that's not all we are. Or not all that we could be.”

 

Kurt tenses, standing very still as he tries to come up with a response that isn't just a panicked reaction to the feelings he tries so hard to suppress rushing to the surface. “What do you want from me here, Blaine? How many times do we need to have this conversation?”

 

Blaine sighs. “I know. I know, and I'm sorry. I just – can't stop thinking about you. Maybe you're right. Maybe we can't – maybe I should just go.”

 

Kurt nods, staring at the floor, waiting for Blaine to go. But he doesn't move from his spot by the counter and eventually, Kurt looks up at him to find him standing there, looking back at him with dark, sad eyes.

 

“Please don't tell me to go,” Blaine pleads, voice low. “I'll do it if you tell me to. I'll go. I'll stay away from you from now on. Just – please don't ask me to. Please.”

 

Kurt swallows, trying to gather all the strength he has left. He has to do this. It's just a few words, and all this confusion will be over. Just a few words and he can call Puck, tell him he wants to go out tonight. Let Puck help him find someone, someone easy and willing. Someone to help him get over Blaine. They can move on. They can live their lives and live by the rules and not do anything – stupid. Because giving in right now would be so stupid. So stupid. He has to be stronger than this. He has to be the adult here right now. He has to end this before it goes any further.

 

His hands are shaking, his heart hammering hard against his ribcage.

 

And he's weak, feels it in every cell of his body. He's so tired of fighting any of this. So tired of denying himself what he really wants, what he's wanted for a long time now. “Don't go.”

 

Blaine stares at him, eyes wide with hope and fear. “What?”

 

Kurt takes a tentative step forward, sucks in a shuddering breath. “Please don't go. Stay here.”

 

“Really?” Blaine asks, pushing himself off the counter, shifting closer to Kurt. “Do you mean that?”

 

Kurt exhales, breathing out the fear, the reservations, the restraint. And jumps headfirst off the cliff, finally allowing himself to fall. He feels reckless, helpless, skin tingling with nervous anticipation. “Yes.”

 

“Just to be very clear. I don't wanna be just friends anymore,” Blaine says, voice steady.

 

Kurt shakes his head. “We were never just friends, Blaine. I don't think we were ever just friends.”

 

For a second, they just look at each other, eyes locked, both standing completely still.

 

Kurt doesn't know who moves forward first, doesn't know who reaches out first. But suddenly they're in each other's arms, holding on hard and kissing frantically, clutching at each other as if trying to crawl under the other's skin.

 

He has never been this scared in his life.

 

He has never felt this relieved.

 

Blaine is still his student. Blaine is still eighteen. But it has never felt this right, kissing someone. They're already too close. All Kurt wants is to be even closer.

 

He sinks into the kiss, claims Blaine's mouth over and over again, and finally, finally lets himself be held.

 

And Blaine holds him close, clings to him, until it feels like Blaine's arms around him are the only thing keeping him standing.

 

They kiss for what feels like hours. Kurt can't even remember the last time he just made out with someone like this. But now he can't seem to stop. Because every time they slow down, every time he starts pulling back, Blaine just shifts closer, chases his lips with his own, teases him with tiny pecks, quick presses of their lips that make his hands curl in the back of Blaine's shirt until he dives back in for more.

 

They kiss until their lips feel sore.

 

And even then they just keep standing there in the middle of Kurt's kitchen, arms around each other, foreheads resting together.

 

“What are we doing?” Kurt whispers.

 

“I'm not sure,” Blaine answers, voice a little raspy. “But I don't want to stop.”

 

“I don't want to stop either,” Kurt admits.

 

“Kurt -” Blaine pulls back enough for their eyes to meet, something desperate in the way he looks at him. Something wild. Determined. Scared. “I want you.”

 

“Blaine -”

 

“Please. I – keep thinking about it. I can't stop. And if we're gonna do this, let's do it properly?”

 

Kurt shudders, hugs him close, pressing his face against Blaine's shoulder. “Oh, god. I have no idea what I'm doing right now.”

 

“But that's not true,” Blaine says, going for teasing even though he's shaking in Kurt's arms. “I remember how good you are at this.”

 

“That's not fair,” Kurt responds. “You can't say things like that and expect me to be responsible.”

 

“I don't want you to be responsible,” Blaine says, close to his ear, kissing his earlobe. “I just want you to touch me.”

 

Kurt groans. “You're driving me crazy.”

 

“Good.” Blaine kisses his neck. “You do the same to me.”

 

Kurt presses him back against the counter, finding his mouth for another deep, hungry kiss. Maybe, he thinks, this had been inevitable from the start. Maybe he can just think about this later. Right now, all he wants is Blaine. And Blaine, apparently, actually wants him back. It's a good feeling.

 

**

 

It's not the first time they undress each other. It's not even the first time he has Blaine in his bed. But it is the first time they do this knowing who they are and being completely sober. This is the first time they are fully aware of the consequences and choose to do it anyway.

 

Kurt looks down at Blaine who's lying there on his back, chest bare but his pants still on, a look of pure yearning on his face that cuts through his flesh into his soul and makes his heart ache with affection so strong it takes his breath away.

 

He cares about Blaine. A lot.

 

All this time, he's tried to rationalize his feelings as a stupid, inappropriate crush. As the memory of a fantastically amazing fuck that he'd wanted to recreate.

 

Now he has Blaine underneath him, staring up at him with adoring eyes, feels his hands slide up the bare skin of his back. And he knows it's more than that. Blaine means more than that. Blaine is amazing.

 

He doesn't just want to fuck him. He wants to connect with him. He wants to be close to him. He wants – him. _Him_. All of him, as much as Blaine is willing to give.

 

They're still different, they're still at different stages in their life, they still want different things. And Kurt knows that he's facing heartbreak, knows where this is headed, knows that he's already falling, faster than he'd thought possible. And yet he can't hold back anymore. If this is all he can get, then he wants it. He'll be this for Blaine for as long as he's wanted and piece his stupid vulnerable heart back together after it shatters at Blaine's feet. Right now, he's too weak to resist any longer.

 

Because Blaine is beautiful and sweet and trembles in his arms as if this is the first time they do this. And Kurt lowers his head, kisses him slowly and sweetly and forgets about the consequences. This is what he wants. This is what he can have. _Blaine_.

 

They take their time undressing each other – this is the first time they do this sober and that's definitely something to savor.

 

Kurt has seen him before, and still it takes his breath away how beautiful he is – small and compact, hairy in all the right places, thick muscles in his thighs and arms but the most perfect soft roll of belly fat that Kurt can't help biting at before he slides off his briefs.

 

And this, he thinks as he places soft kisses to Blaine's hip, Blaine's fingers carding through his hair, is why one night stands have never worked for him very well – he likes to know what he gets when he undresses someone. He likes Blaine's soft stomach, the birthmark on the back of his shoulder, all the things he hasn't even had the chance to find out about him yet.

 

There's one other thing he remembers from their previous times, but he doesn't just want to assume, he wants to know what Blaine is looking for too.

 

“How do you want to do this?” he asks, crawling up Blaine's body to claim his lips in a hungry kiss.

 

“Fuck me,” Blaine breathes against his mouth, blinking up at him. “- If you want?”

 

Kurt exhales, nudging their foreheads together. “Yes,” he whispers. “Yeah, that sounds good, we can do that -”

 

He takes him time opening him up, spends just as much time kissing him and being close to him and just breathing each other's air and Blaine spreads his fingers wide on Kurt's back, closes his eyes and whispers his name.

 

It's nothing like the times they've done this before – less frantic and urgent, definitely less drunk. There's anticipation, tension, something between them Kurt can't quite grasp, but it leaves him shivering pleasantly anyway. And when he finally slides between Blaine's legs, propped up on his elbows above Blaine and so ready for what they're about to do, Blaine's eyes meet his and his breath stutters.

 

He looks young and eager and so gentle and content and happy – Kurt leans down to kiss him one more time before he reaches between them, guides himself into place, pushes inside.

 

Blaine gasps, fingers digging into Kurt's skin, and even though they've done this before it suddenly feels so intimate Kurt can't breathe for a second.

 

He fucks him slowly at first then faster, long hard thrusts that make Blaine pant and moan underneath him. He makes the most wonderful sounds every time Kurt does something he particularly likes.

 

The bed squeaks beneath them but all he can hear is the slapping sound of their skin and _Blaine_ , and he's close, so close already -

 

He can feel Blaine's body tensing up, can feel the way his thighs quiver and the way his fingernails are biting into his shoulders. And he rocks them together harder, desperate little grunts escaping his throat as he pushes in again again again, he's almost there, almost -

 

The world goes white in a sharp explosion of bliss, his muscles seizing up as he slams inside hard one more time, grinds it out with shallow little thrusts, nerve endings on fire with pure, devastating pleasure.

 

He stills, panting, wrecked, weak; it hasn't felt like this in a very long time.

 

Blaine whimpers underneath him, eyes squeezed shut, and Kurt slips a hand between them, finding him still hard and leaking, throbbing under his fingers. “Let me -”

 

“Please -” Blaine gasps. “God yes -”

 

He jerks him off fast, knowing Blaine is close, wanting to make this good for him after Blaine made him feel so amazing.

 

Blaine arches under him, breath coming heavy and fast, mouth falling open around a silent moan. He comes between them in long spurts for what feels like forever, clinging to Kurt hard enough to leave bruises.

 

Kurt doesn't care. He feels like he needs Blaine's fingerprints on his skin.

 

**

 

Blaine is in his arms, naked and sweaty and tracing patterns into his chest with a fingertip, humming happily under his breath.

 

Kurt holds him, heart still racing, and he still _wants_ so much. “Blaine.”

 

“Mmm?” Blaine lifts his head, looks up at him, and he looks so young, so content.

 

Kurt takes a deep breath, meets his eyes. “This is what you want, right? It's not just me?”

 

Blaine smiles. “I really want to keep doing this. If that's what you mean.”

 

Kurt nods. “I can't – date you.”

 

Blaine's face falls. “I just -”

 

“No,” Kurt interrupts. “I mean – not the traditional way. You know that. We can't tell anyone, and we can't ever be alone together at NYADA ever again, I don't know what would happen -”

 

Blaine pouts. “What about lunch in your office? I liked that.”

 

Kurt sighs. “Fine. But – not all the time. And we have to be really careful.”

 

“We'll be careful,” Blaine promises, then adds, quietly, “I just really like you.”

 

The smile just happens to his face, nothing he can do to stop it. “I really like you too, Blaine.”

 

Blaine props his chin up on Kurt's chest, one sweaty curl plastered adorably to his temple. “So we'll just see where this goes? You promise you won't call me tomorrow and freak out completely and tell me this was all a mistake? Because, seriously, I need to know you're in this as much as I am if we're doing this.”

 

Kurt shakes his head firmly, because, god, he feels so bad, so bad about the way he's been with Blaine lately, he knows he should have his shit together a little more but he just can't around Blaine sometimes. “I promise. I think we've both seen that resisting this – whatever this is – doesn't really fix anything. Might as well stop fighting it.”

 

Blaine sighs, rolling his eyes at him. “You're truly the last of the great romantics.”

 

“Oh my god. Shut up.” Kurt smacks his arm with a grin, reaches up to tug at a curl, fascinated at the way it springs back into place once he lets go. “I already told you I like you.”

 

Blaine gives him a _look_. “We've known each other for, like, half a year. Took you long enough to figure it out.”

 

“Oh, and, what, you knew right away?” Kurt teases back. “Or are you just sulking because I didn't succumb to your charms immediately?”

 

“I'm not sulking!” Blaine sticks out his bottom lip at him.

 

Kurt pats his cheek. “Oh, of course not, honey.”

 

“I'm not!”

 

“I'm not saying you are.”

 

Blaine laughs, collapsing onto Kurt and pinning him to the mattress with his body, wrapping his arms and legs around him firmly like a human straightjacket. “Just for that I'm not letting you out of this bed until you admit that you thought I was cute six months ago.”

 

“We'll starve,” Kurt says sadly.

 

“Or you could give in.”

 

Kurt sighs. “Don't you know me at all? What do you think are the chances of that happening?”

 

“At least we'll die knowing it was your fault for being stubborn.”

 

“Hey.” Kurt wiggles an arm free, pinching Blaine's hip, Blaine squirming on top of him and batting at his hand with a growl. “If I promise to let you use my shower later, will you let me out of bed so I can order Chinese?”

 

Blaine lifts his head, squinting his eyes as if he's thinking hard. “Will you join me in the shower?”

 

“If you get up to order the food instead. Now that I think about it, I really have to pee.”

 

“If I have to order the food, you'll join me in the shower and have sex with me in there.”

 

Kurt sighs. “You drive a hard bargain.”

 

“Those are my terms,” Blaine says, shrugging. “Take it or leave it.”

 

“You really like to win, don't you?” Kurt asks, amused.

 

Blaine presses a smacking kiss to his lips, beaming at him. “Yeah, I do. But I already won _you_ today, so I don't even really care about the rest of it. I can order the food. No problem.”

 

Kurt blinks up at him. “Blaine -”

 

“Hey, do you want egg rolls? I love egg rolls -”

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Kurt agrees, unable to tear his eyes away from Blaine's wonderful, smiling face. It's been a long time since he's felt truly happy like this. He's still nervous. But he looks up at Blaine, listens to him rhapsodizing about his love for Chinese food, and thinks, this might just work out okay. At the very least, it is definitely worth a try.

 


End file.
